Ayzintion City - The Eateries
By: Nathan

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[TESTICLES]

This story is erotic fiction, and is adult oriented. It deals with the forced castration of an unwilling adult male, and is fiction only. It should not be posted on sites where minors are likely to see it. This story is another tale in the long series called "Ayzintion City." It stands alone in its own right, but when read with the other stories in that series it will tend to be better understood. The courtesy of a comment is appreciated. Comments can be sent directly to me, or posted on the message board on the EA where I will see them. Thanks. --Nathan


Newest Files




This story forms yet another tale in the series that has come to be known as Ayzintion City. The series is written in such a way that it doesn’t really matter which story you read first, yet even so, they all form the tale and they are all written about the same, magical place that is found only in my mind. As a reminder, Ayzintion City is a place like no other place on earth. It is city where the slave traders come, and the slave buyers come, and the entire city with its ancient buildings and associated businesses are all linked to the trade. It is a place where the Eastern Province and the Southern Province converge, and sometimes the slave auctions will trade as many as a thousand boys in a single week. Ayzintion City has existed since the first maps were drawn, and while it is well known among those that deal in human flesh it is almost unheard of outside of that elite circle. The city is hidden in the mountains, and it is surrounded by water and deep ravines. Unless you know the way into the city, you would never be able to find it. The majority of all slave trading that is done has its roots to Ayzintion, and if you are interested in buying or selling or you need to find a boy to own it is there that you will be drawn.

I love the city, and especially the restaurants and eateries. The big name places have all kinds of food, but the smaller café's usually specialize in only a few dishes. The food in Ayzintion is varied and good, and having so many choices and such varied dishes is one of the advantages of living here. I think my favorite places are the small eateries near the slave yards, especially when they are busy and the slaves are being sold. The area in the city where the slave trading is done is intense and busy, with lots of slaves on the blocks and lots of people gawking and looking. There is a bustle in the air, and a smell of sweat and struggle that I savor. I don't know what it is really, but I love the heat of the place, and the grunting and the laughing that comes out when the knives are being used.

Because that area of the city is so busy, there are many restaurants and a lot of choices to be had. I work for the council, and I often do working lunches and a lot of business can take place when the food is good. I've shared a lot of lunches with more than a few on the council, and its amazing how much a man in power enjoys a good plate when the nuts are fresh. Being so close to the cutting tables obviously means that there are quite a few places that specialize in the fares from the slaves themselves, and if you want to savor a fresh cock or a plate of balls then those are worth visiting.

Yes, I love the slave yards, and the small diners that can be found there. It is interesting in a perverse sort of way to see the contrast of what happens there, the young slaves struggling as they are unmanned and the crowd laughing as it happens. Nothing builds an appetite more than watching a man struggle, and if you want to see a man fight hard then watch one being castrated. No man fights harder. No man. A man being castrated will pull so hard against his restraints that the ropes will mark their flesh, and he will jerk and fight continuously until the table shakes. Still, it doesn’t change anything, and when the knife is pulled through a slave's balls they usually shudder, and often too the intensity of the experience is so great that they will actually spurt their seed as it is being done.

Some of the diners are set in open verandas that look right down over the yards, so that you can enjoy your meal while you watch the castrations being performed. If you want to see a good view of it being done, and don't want to miss the slaves as they squirt as they are cut, then an overhead view is a good way to go and a diner is the way to get it. Speaking of spurting, I always find that amazing. Except for being castrated, at no other time will a male shoot his wad spontaneously. Normally, for most men and teenage boys, it requires some effort on their part to empty their balls. A typical fuck takes five to ten minutes of thrusting in and out of a pussy, and a masturbation effort takes at least as long, especially if no lubrication is used. Alas, if you want to milk a slave before he is nutted that can add ten minutes or more to their castration and in my experience I've found that it isn't necessary and most cutters don't bother doing it.

For some reason, when you steal a slave's balls more times than not they will pump out their goo as soon as it begins. That is especially true if they haven’t been milked and it has been a while since they shot their semen. In my experience as soon as the knife is brought into play and begins to make the slice that will open their sack they will grunt and squirt their seed. Why I have no idea, but I like seeing it happen, and when the knife is doing the job it is always exciting to see their eyes open wide, as they scream into their gags and shoot out their last wads of jism as if there is no tomorrow coming.

I've watched a good many castrations while eating my lunch, sitting on the second level of the cutting yards at some obscure little diner that offers a good view with the meal. One thing I've learned and which is extremely interesting is that the wads are bigger when they spurt while their balls are being cut. Perhaps it’s the knowledge it’s their last time, or perhaps it is just the intensity of the feeling of getting their balls cut that causes it. All I know is I've seen a lot of slaves cut, and the vast majority of them will spurt a huge wad when the knife is drawn.

When a slave is done on his back a good cutter will make certain that the slave's cock is pointed up, out of the way. Certainly it makes it easier, and keeps the balls exposed and available for the knife. But the real advantage is that it doesn’t matter if he shoots his wad, and even if he does his white goo will just spurt out onto his belly and sometimes up across his chest. If its going to happen it usually will be just as his balls are being taken. If the slave's cock is pointed at the cutter then it can get messy and that is not desirable, and a good cutter keeps the cock pointed in a safe direction, so if the slave he's cutting cums, he will shoot his wad on himself and coat his own skin with his goo.

I like to sip a fine wine and enjoy a pair of fresh balls while I watch a slave being nutted. I can get really hungry when I see a young slave all tied out on his back and with his last final load of semen spilled on his belly. I've seen a few cutters drop the severed scrotum on the slave's stomach just after the cut has been made, letting it sit there in his pool of spent semen until it stops quivering. Right after the cut sometimes a man's severed bag will pulsate, the twin orbs in the sac moving almost as if they have a life of their own. It doesn't last that long, but its something to see when it happens.

When man's severed bag is on his belly, sitting in the pool of cream that was only minutes before inside of his balls, it gets me hard. I think what I like about it is the finality of the visual statement, as it leaves no doubt that the pool of cream is the slave's last load of living semen. That always gets a reaction from the crowd, and it allows the slave to see his manhood and to confirm what has been done to him.

You can learn a lot watching a slave being gelded. If the slave is done over the rail, from behind, then his seed will spurt in the dirt, which is probably where it belongs in the first place. I like watching a slave cut that way, as his hole is open and ripe and you can watch it wink as the blade is moved. A male being cut over the rail will struggle and jerk wildly, and it almost always gives the impression they are fucking the rail while it is being done to them. I like watching the female cutters do a man that way, as they will invariable heft their balls and fondle them before they put the knife to the spot and make the slice. The expression on the slave at that point is something to see, their eyes wide as the woman holds them. They know of course it’s the last time they will ever feel such a thing, and you can see their desperation and the misery in their eyes as it is being done. Boy they grunt when they cum!

Just off the main square in the city, in the middle of the slave yards, is a small little diner that has been doing business there since I can remember. Of all the places for lunch, it is my favorite. My own father took me there when I was a boy, and I think it was there that I savored my first set of slave nuts. The place is not cheap, but when the slave yards are in full swing the place is crowded and it is not that uncommon to have to wait for a table.

They serve nothing but balls, and they cook them at your table. There are other restaurants in the city that run things in a similar way, but what makes this place so unique is that there is a host of slaves from which to choose, and they are young and they all have big sacs. I think they are picked out for the size of their scrotums, and all of them are something to savor and a pair of nuts will make a meal. At this place, you go down a line and pick them out before you take your table. Once you have, the slave or slaves whose balls you will be eating is brought to your table to be inspected. If you want, you can heft their sacs and feel their balls, making sure they are tender enough and will be what you want. Once you have confirmed your choice then his nuts are stolen from his bag, skinned, and then cooked in front of you, and him too of course.

Many men from the city meet at this diner for lunch, and it is popular and is always crowded. Of course, some individuals are turned off by their methods, but not many, and for most it is the ultimate lunch, and a thrill to watch. One thing that isn't of doubt is the quality of the food that they serve. There are no fresher balls to be had anywhere, and they sauté them perfectly in just the right amount of butter and spice. I love watching a slave's expression when I pick out his sac to be opened, and the look on his eyes then as he knows his time has come to become a eunuch is always one that I savor.

Just before I turned thirteen I think my father brought me there for the first time, and I'll never forget that man whose balls I decided I'd try and eat. He was a man in every since of the word, in his twenties, with strong powerful muscles and a big sack of balls. He shook his head and grunted into his gag when I pointed him out, and then, dragged over and tied to the rail by my table, he looked up and stared at me the entire time, even as they were reaching between his legs and making the cuts that would give me my meal. He shook the rail in his frustration, and then afterwards, after he had been unmanned, he stared at the dinner and watched his own nuts cooked at our table. Yeah, I remember him, and how he watched me as I ate his balls. I'll never forget his expression, one of defeat certainly, but perhaps more than that. I think there was envy too, looking at me and my body as my own balls were just beginning to sprout me into manhood.

I've had some very memorial meals there over the years since that first time and now. I do a lot of work for the council, and so on occasion I've come here with a councilman and shared a meal. One such time I'll never forget was the time I ate with councilman Tanner. We both had picked out our slaves and were watching them being tied down in preparation for their nutting. There was a younger boy in the restaurant laughing at the slaves, and the way he was shouting it was very rude and offensive. He was about fifteen, with a wisp of hair on his lip. He wasn’t a slave, and appeared to have free reign of the restaurant. The owner of the establishment yelled at him four or five times, telling him to do certain things that the boy ignored. The boy was apparently working in the place, wiping down the tables with a rag as the patrons left.

As he passed by our table he snapped his rag up between the legs of the slave I had picked for my lunch, snapping it into his balls and making a loud SLAP sound as he did so. Boy, that got my slave's attention! As his nuts swung forward from the blow of the towel, of course he jumped, and grunted into his gag. The surprise hit to his nuts of course caught him totally by surprise. Councilman Tanner wasn't too pleased about the boy before his little towel act, and that SNAP to my slave's balls had been the final straw. As the boy turned, Councilman Tanner almost yelled at him. "Watch it boy! You need to mind your manners. You are rude, and are bothering me. Do not disturb our lunch again. We plan to eat those balls, so leave them alone. I mean it. If you can't behave yourself, then leave."

Now, when a councilmen speaks, people listen, and you could have heard a mouse move after he had spoken. But the stupid boy paid him no heed, and instead he jerked his head back, and then laughed, and after that just whipped that towel down a second time, faster then, and harder too, bringing it up between the legs of the other slave and striking his balls with a loud resounding SNAP. He struck the slave hard enough that his balls slapped forward and his cock struck his belly. That sure got a reaction! Stunned, I didn't know what to say. The councilman started to speak, but the boy told him straight out "Go fuck yourself!" and then turned and walked away, as if he owned the place!

God! I was so surprised, I just didn't know what to say! Then, on top of the remark, the boy turned around as he reached the other side of the dining room, and pulled his hand up and turned it flat, making a gesture that is obscene and offensive. As he 'thumbed-off' the councilman I gasped, the shock of watching the teenager make his gesture at one of the most powerful men in the city so great the room grew totally quiet.

I knew something was going to happen, but I wasn't prepared for it even when it did. The councilman was angry of course, and the many patrons in the restaurant knew it and were watching everything that transpired. I think we were all stunned at what the boy had done and were just waiting to see how the councilman would handle it.

We didn't have to wait long. In less than a second it seemed the councilman called over the owner of the establishment and inquired about the boy who was causing the problem. It turned out the boy was the owner's youngest son, and the tension then was so thick I will never forget it. The two men talked, the owner and the councilmen, with the owner profusely apologizing for the actions of his son. He explained his boy had a mind of his own, and really only listened to him when he felt like it. I could sense the exasperation in the father. Then, as I watched, the councilman looked at him for a long time, staring really, trying to decide I think on what he was going to do. Of course everything stood in the balance, and the councilman had the power to close the restaurant with a single word. I had no idea where things were headed, but the owner was scared. That much I remember perfectly.

Then, very slowly, the councilman looked at the owner, and said "Your boy offends me, but I accept your apology. But the real apology needs to come from the boy if I am going to heed it."

Then as I watched from the other side of the table the councilman turned to the teenager and apparently decided to give the boy a second chance to redeem himself. The boy was glaring at our table, and his father. Councilman Tanner said "YOU...THERE. COME HERE NOW AND APOLOGIZE TO ME!" The boy stood, defiantly and made no move to apologize to anyone. I didn't know what to say, and the father's face went white. Nobody moved. The boy jerked his head, and his long hair bounced clear of his eyes. He held his face in a straight defiant look, and it was totally obvious he wasn’t sorry for anything. His face had several pimples on it, the way it does on some adolescents, and the wisp of hair on his lip caught the light and seemed thicker from the angle we were looking at him from.

I've know Councilman Tanner for many years, and he is a quiet, respectable man. But he was at his limit with the boy, and as I watched him I saw him bite his lip. Then slowly, very slowly, he pulled out his purse and spilled out a pile of coins onto the table. The father gasped at the sum of it. As the father and the boy stared at the coins, the councilman said: "The boy there, he carries your name and embarrasses you. He is an obnoxious one, and ruins what otherwise is a fine restaurant. Why don't you have him brought to our table and let him join me for lunch. I would like him to join us, and I think he will enjoy a meal when it's his own balls being served. In fact, I'm certain of it."

I thought the father would protest, but he did not. He seemed resigned really, or perhaps he was tired of the insolence from his misbehaving teenage boy. I don't know really what it was, but instead of protesting or pleading for his boy, he just nodded, and picked up the coins, and the next thing I knew the teenager was dragged to our table, in shock really at what was happening. Boy he changed his tune then! He started begging then, the realization of what was at stake suddenly becoming clear to him. But it was way too late of course, and before he knew it he was gagged and was spread over the rail with the other two slaves, fighting with all of his strength to keep his teenage balls.

Then, as we watched, the restaurants cutter came to our table and did the three of them, one after the other. My slave was in his middle twenties, with a big sack, and I watched his cock spurt his seed on the floor as the cut was made. He had a huge dick, really big, and as he was gelded it spurted out his jism like a horse spurts his urine.

The councilman's lunch selection was in his late twenties, a big slave of a man with a big sac of nuts. He stared in disbelief really as he was unmanned, jerking against the rail with all of his strength. I don't think he took any consolation in knowing his balls were going to a councilman. When the cutter reached under him and pulled down on his balls he struggled desperately, of course to no avail. The chef put his pan in front of the slave's quivering cock, and I remember as the cut was made the councilman grinned, just as the man spurted his seed into the pan and threw his head back as he ejaculated. Afterwards the slave just slumped over the rail, and stared at the floor as his skinned balls were tossed in the same pan and began to sizzle in his own cream.

As for the boy, he screamed into his gag like a madman, his eyes wide then as it was done to him. The councilman held his hand up and stopped the cutter just before the slice was made, and then he said "Boy...you are stupid in the ways of the world. Your insolence and rudeness has cost you your balls. I hope you learn from it, because if you do not, then in the future I'll have your cock taken to finish the lesson." Then he nodded, and I saw the cutter start to saw his knife straight through the young teenager's scrotum. The kid shook his head side to side, and he really bucked and grunted then, screaming as he was unmanned. I don't think he could believe it as it was done, but done it was, and all he could do was jerk and strain against the ropes that held him down, his legs spread and the cutter taking his entire young sack and grinning as he was doing it.

After they had all been cut the two slaves we had picked out were left tied over the rail, collapsed there, so that they could look if the wanted and watch their nuts being cooked. Like many slaves just unmanned, they chose not to, and instead lay collapsed over the rail and defeated, looking at the floor and with all of the struggle totally gone from them. As for the boy, he was untied and pulled to our table and forced to take a seat besides the councilman. Sitting there he just stared at the table, his eyes stunned, and the pain no doubt between his legs almost more than he could comprehend. When the rag was taken out of his mouth he said nothing, and he didn't try and move either. It was such a contrast. Now, ball-less, he was a lot less talkative and infinitely more pleasant to be around. I think he was struggling just to sit there without falling over, fighting the feeling of weakness perhaps that had taken him over after his nutting. When his balls went into the pan with the butter the boy almost vomited, and I could see him dry heaving as he watched and smelled them cooking.

In a few minutes our lunch was served, and both the councilman and I started right in, savoring the perfect blend of flavors and enjoying every mouth watering morsel. The boy just stared at his plate, his crusted balls now perfectly cooked and resting on a bed of rice and served on a beautiful the plate before him. He stared at them but didn't move to pick up his fork, and after a few minutes the councilman put his hand on the boy's shoulder, and then said this to him: "Go ahead boy, and eat your balls. You might as well. They were expensive as hell, and there is no point in them going in the trash. I want you to eat them, if for nothing else as an example to others. You dared to mock me, and I will not be ridiculed."

The boy stared, and while he watched the councilman then speared one of the boy's balls with his fork, and moved it to the boy's mouth like a father feeds a child. The boy stared at it, at his own cooked ball, and then finally and with the fight gone from him, the teenager opened his mouth and took in the spiced orb. I'll never forget the expression on his face, his eyes wide as he chewed his nut and ate what had been the essence of his own manhood. I grinned while he ate his own balls one after the other, and I'll never forget his expression as he was doing so.

Sometimes men will bring a slave to the restaurant to be their lunch, and I think that is always interesting. I saw this one man bring in two once, two of his slaves that had been giving him problems. For a fee they cut them and served them up, and it no doubt would make an impression on the man's other slaves once the word of it got out. As for the nutted boys, I still remember them begging him for another chance, even as they were tied down and their scrotums were being washed. I think there is something unique about watching a slave struggling as he is tied in front of a table where the men are waiting for his manhood to be served to them. Before the cut is made their scrotum is stuffed full of their balls, waiting to be harvested into a lunch almost like oysters are raked fresh from the sea. You can feel the slave's fear even, and their backs will sweat from the anticipation of what will happen to them. When the butter is sizzling at the other tables and the smell of cooking balls fills the air, there is no doubt that the fear is thick and the struggles are intense while they wait for their own knife to be brought into play.

Usually, for some reason, when the slaves are cut they are stiff and hard. The younger slaves have the most eager cocks, and it is almost as if they are excited at being unmanned. Like the boy who was made to eat his own balls, most younger boys will squirt when they are cut. Since their cream is usually sweet, more than not just as the cut is made the chef will hold the pan in front of the boy's cock whose balls are being snipped, so that when the slave spurts out his seed it can be added to the butter and spices and make for a thicker, more savory sauce. I always think that is an exciting thing to see, watching a young male squirting what is without doubt his last load of sperm into the very pan that will be used to cook his balls. Of course, soon they too are in the same pan, turning brown from the heat and sizzling there in front of the boy who has carried them up until now in his bag. Now of course, as he watches them cook, his bag is empty, and there isn't any doubt at all that his push into manhood is over.

Occasionally a couple of women come to the restaurant, and I always find that interesting as I watch them pick out the men whose balls they plan to eat. The expression of fear in the men's faces as they are selected by the women is usually very serious, a look of shock perhaps or one of disbelief. I think there is something about being unmanned by a woman that is especially intense, and I know that most slaves selected for a woman's plate will struggle hard and fight desperately while it is being done.

I remember this one twenty year old, staring at the woman as she savored his balls. She had them taken and cooked one at a time, to keep them hot and fresh she said. As she ate the boys left ball and licked her lips, he stared in disbelief and struggled while he watched her chew. Of course, soon enough she was ready for the other, and as the male struggled and begged she laughed. What I especially remember about him was that he shot two loads into the pan as he was nutted, one ball after the other, and I think she enjoyed that as much as the meal itself. He had a hell of a big wad, and I suppose he would have been a good breeder. Alas, it was not to be.

I really enjoy the time when I am choosing my dinner, and especially those moments when the decision is being made as to whose scrotum will end up on my plate. That time when the choice is still in the air is one of the parts of the entire eating out experience that I like the most. I always try and take my time in making my selection. I have spent up to twenty minutes before, hefting the balls of various men, comparing their stuffed scrotums and eager cocks one to the next. I like to hold a young man's balls and then ask him "Well boy, what do you think? Should we make your balls my lunch?" Boy their eyes go wide with the question!

It's funny to watch the relief when I move to another, and it's even more fun to pick out a boy and watch him start to beg me to pick another. One time I had some fun with two young men, both older teenagers, nineteen or so, and both apparently friends. I saw them talking, until I approached them, and then I made them turn to face me so I could see what they carried under their cocks. I had them each hold their pole up and out of the way, and then I came to them and hefted their nuts and held their manhood in my hands. I gently squeezed them both, pretending to try and decide. Then I turned to one, and giving his balls a gentle squeeze for a second time, I asked him: "Well boy, do you think I should have your balls, or those of your friend?"

He begged me not to nut him, and so I asked him why, why should I pick his friend's balls over his own? You should have seen his expression! Then he started to give me an answer, and of course, his friend wasn't too happy listening to his cohort trying to get him castrated. I listened to the one lad tell me about his friend's balls, how they were really younger and would be more tender than his own. I was grinning then, and after I heard him out I then turned my attention to the other boy, feeling his scrotum and hefting it up. Of course I asked him then whose balls I should eat, and he of course had a different recommendation, and suggested that I choose his friend's balls over his own. I had to laugh. Finally, I turned to the waiter, and then I said "I don't think I can decide, and they seem to have different recommendations. Why don't you cook them both up and I'll see which is better." God that was funny.

Those two boys fought all the way through it, struggling hard against their bonds. Even when the knife was unmanning them, one right after the other, they screamed and grunted and seemed to be in denial that it was actually happening. They both squirted big loads out of their eager cocks, and it was quite apparent that they were much alike in the amount of their jism and the size of their scrotums. Their four balls were a lot to eat, especially for lunch, and with the rice and salad they were almost more than I could handle. But, I ate all four balls, and even as I was doing it I couldn't tell one from the other.

There was this one meal that I'll never forget. I was there for dinner once, invited to eat with two councilmen. Dinner's there are always formal affairs, especially when compared to the lunches they serve. That particular night, we had reservations and because of the councilmen I was with we were ushered into a private room. There were two coucilmen, Talner and Phillip, along with their wives. I had my own wife at my side, and there was one other man in our group making the party a total of seven. He name was Garret, and he too was married, although his wife was not present at this particular meal.

I know him fairly well, and I've done a few things with his wife and three sons. I was really quite surprised to see Garret there, because he has an obnoxious side and I did not think he was favored by the council. Personally except for the few times his boys have been over to our home, I haven't done much with him. In my opinion, he's a big jerk of a man, but he's got three good kids and I know them well. Still, I don't like him. But, somebody on the council obviously did, because he was here, invited just like me, and so there were the seven of us and I did not question it.

On this particular night we went straight to the private room, and didn't pick out our own slaves to eat which normally was the custom. Instead when we came into the room they were already gagged and bent over the rail. They were facing away from the table, so that we could see their spread legs and their hanging balls, and I remember looking at them tied that way and wondering which would be mine. The slaves were all of similar age, all older teenagers actually. They had big sacks though, man sized scrotums, in keeping with the normal high quality that this restaurant is known for. I knew from looking at them they had been carefully selected. They would be both filling and tender, and my mouth was watering in anticipation.

After the wine was served we watched as they were nutted one after the other, the restaurant's cutter just going down the line, reaching up between their legs and opening the bags one after the other. After each castration he would skin the nuts and place them in a pan, to which the chef added a few cloves of garlic and some fresh scallions. As they were nutted each slave grunted and struggled and we laughed as they did, each of them fighting as hard as he could to remain a man. Their struggles were useless though, as they usually are. Being tied to the same rail in such a small room made for quite a scene. The chef had an apprentice, who milked the men as they were being nutted, to make certain that each slave shot a wad of jism as his balls were taken. The last man was just a boy really, younger than the others. He had smooth legs and a hairless sac, and he looked to be eighteen or nineteen at the most. I did not think he looked to be of the same quality as the other specimens, but with the councilmen there I dared say nothing.

I kept looking at that young sac and those hairless legs, and as I watched it being emptied it brought a smile to my face. Boy that young man struggled! While his sac wasn't that big compared to the others, even so, the boy who owned it seemed to relish it, because he fought hard to keep it. I've never seen a young man fight harder in fact, and he jerked so hard the entire rail shook. Still, he too was soon castrated, his balls going in the pan along with his load of spunk. Soon enough there were fourteen balls sizzling in their own cream, each being cooked at our table. The last pair of nuts were smaller than the others, and I remember hoping they would not be mine. Still, God they all smelled so wonderful!

It tuned out Garret got the smaller set of nuts, so that made me smile and he didn't dare complain. After we had been served the slaves just collapsed down over the rail, the fight gone out of them and they essentially laying lifeless, their legs spread and their empty sacs hanging for everyone to see. As the meal went by we shared different stories, savoring the wine and enjoying the fresh testicles. When the balls had all been eaten, Councilman Talner tapped on the side of his glass and then we all grew quiet as he began to speak. Looking right at Garret, he said "I have a toast to Garret, the one man who has done what no other has ever dared."

We all looked at Garret, and I could not gauge his expression. Then Councilman Talner continued: "You see, Garret here has cheated us, and taken money meant for the council and instead he has diverted it to his own coffers. So far, the sum of seven hundred degos has gone missing, and it is he that has taken it."

Garret's face went white. We all looked at him, and I stared in disbelief. Garret was a fool if he tried to steal form the councl, and as I stared at him this feeling of premonition came over me. I figured he would deny it, but he didn't. Instead, he started to sob, and then he said "I.....I wasn't going to keep it. I transferred the money, yes, but I will return it. I....I just needed it for a short...."

Talner interrupted him then, and said "Forget the money Garret. Forget it. Your employment is no longer needed, and you no longer will work for us. You owe me, and us, and you will pay us back. But it is not your coins that I want for your lack of loyalty."

As he said that, the waiter untied the last slave that was over the rail, the one with the smooth legs and the body of a youth. As he lifted him up and spun him around for us to see, all of our eyes went to the newly castrated boy. It was Garret's oldest son, and when I saw him and his empty bag I realized his father had swallowed his balls.

Garret staggered, and the bile came up in his throat. He stared, the look of shock on his face, and the realization then of what he had done almost more than he could take. He was speechless, and his head seemed to be spinning. Then Talner said "I hope you enjoyed your dinner. Your oldest son has paid a price for your insolence, and now you will pay for the rest of it. As for your own balls, you are to have yourself castrated at noon tomorrow, in the central square. Just show up and ask to have it done, and spread your legs willingly. Noon. Exactly. I want you to put yourself on the table, and I want a crowd there when you ask to be nutted. And don't you dare drink any wine, as I want you feeling every pull of the knife.

Garret stared, his eyes wide open, listening, taking it all in as he looked at his olderst son and his empty bag.

Talner continued then: "I also want you to remember this, if you fail to do what I have told you to do, then I'll have the guards come for you. If I have to do that, you'll be nutted just the same, but I'll make sure they crush your balls before they cut them off. If I have to come for you, then I'll have the rest of your son's nutted when I have you done."

As he said that, Garret fainted.

Yeah, that was a dinner I'll never forget. Of course, the next day I was there at noon, to see it, as was most of the council. He came, right on time, and the place was crowded and there was a lot going on. I'll never forget it though, how he came in, looking around, and then finally, scared shitless, he walked right up to the tables where the slaves were being cut. He was dressed in his work robes, but he had removed the crest of the council. I could sense his hesitation. Finally, he spit on the ground, and swallowed, and then gathering up his courage he made his announcement and told the cutter there that he wanted to be castrated. I'll never forget the look he got.

Everyone thought he was drunk, or kidding, and the cutter seemed to ignore him and called for another slave. However, Garret intervened, and made his request again, louder this time and pleading even, telling the cutter he had been ordered by the council to have himself castrated. The cutter looked around, and everyone was watching. Then, he shrugged his shoulders, and said "So....you really want me to castrate you? If you want that, then you'll have to pay me."

Garret's face went red, and I saw him stare. Still, finally, he opened his purse. The cutter looked up then, to where one of the councilmen was watching. He grinned, and then he said to Garret "If you want me to nut you, then I'll need 700 degos to do it."

Garret's face was ashen, and he was shaking. Still, he handed the cutter his entire purse, and then promised he would pay the rest within a few days. The cutter hefted the purse, and grinned then, and that's when he said: "Well, get up on the table then, without your robes. Spread your own legs, and hold them wide apart. If you do that, then I will know you are serious and I will take your balls."

Garrett's face went white, and yet he stripped, taking his own clothes off and leaving them in a pile. He was fat, and his little knob of a cock was embarrassingly small. Still, he had a big sack of balls, and it was obvious he didn't want to lose them. As I looked at him I had the thought he had probably fucked his wife the evening before, getting in one last fling while he was still a man and could do it.

He climbed up on the table, and asked them to tie him down. But the cutter refused, and told him "no." Then the cutter grinned, and then he said "Well, if you want to be castrated that bad, then hold your arms and legs spread while it is done. If you can do that then I'll nut you. If you can't, then I won't."

Garret begged to be tied, saying "Please man....tie me tight and then just make it quick."

The cutter looked at him, and then he said "I won't tie you. As far as how I make the slice, if the council wants you castrated, then you deserve to feel it. Otherwise, you wouldn't be asking for it to be done."

The crowd was roaring with laughter, and the humiliation was obvious in the expression on his face. He gave up then, and I could see his face fall as he realized he had no control in any of this. Having paid the cutter to castrate him, then he reached out and grabbed the leather restrains with his own hands, holding them, and he parted his legs and held them spread as far apart as he could. When the cutter picked up his balls and laid the knife up against his sac, Garret closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Slowly, I saw the cutter push in his blade, and as soon as the steel penetrated into his sack Garret screamed, and then he slammed his legs closed, reaching down then to stop what was happening. He literally rolled himself into a ball, grabbing his crotch with both hands and protecting himself as the pain took him. The cutter pulled the knife out, and left him there, on the table, his eyes wide and struggling. The cutter then said "Get off my table. Unless you hold still, I won't nut you."

Slowly Garret pulled himself out of the fetal position. Then, with obvious pain on his face, Garret looked at him, pleading, and then he said "Please....for God's sake...PLEASE! If you don't take my balls, then they will come for me and my sons! I'm going to be nutted one way or the other!"

The cutter looked at him, and laughed. Then he said, "Well, if you want to be nutted that bad, then hold still and allow it to be done. I could care less if your sons are castrated. If you want me to cut you, then spread your legs and let it be done."

The crowd was in a frenzy, and the slaves waiting to be castrated were even laughing. It was something to see. Garret was bleeding some, between his legs. Then, he suddenly sat up then, on the table, and reached down and tied one of the leather straps around his right ankle. Then, he did the same to the left one, so that his legs were tied out, tied out wide and with his own hand. Then he laid back down, on his back, and grabbed the restraints once again, this time wrapping his hands up in them as best he could. He was gripping them then, hard, with a look of resolve on his face that I have never seen on another man. It was obvious he was determined to allow himself to be castrated.

The cutter shrugged his shoulders. The crowd was screaming then, "NUT HIM...NUT HIM....NUT HIM....NUT HIM."

What the hell! The cutter reached down to his sack, and picked it up in his hand. He took a leather throng, and made the loop, and then as we all watched he set the loop in place over his scrotum and snatched closed the ends, jerking the leather closed with a snap and cinching off Garret's balls with a jerk of the tie. Garret gripped the leather restraints and bucked his hips, and his fat legs strained as he pulled against the restraints that he had tied around his own ankles.

The cutter took his knife then, and laid it up against his sac. Then, looking at Garret and perhaps feeling for him, he said "You sure you want to be nutted?"

Garret nodded, and the cutter said "Pick up your cock and make it hard. I want you hard when I nut you."

God. Garret's face flushed crimson, but he let go of the restraint with his right hand and moved it down to his knob while everyone watched. Then, taking his own cock in his fist, he pumped it, pumping his cock fast and furiously. It took several minutes until it was stiff, and soon it was jutting up and eager. The crowd of course liked it, watching the big man pump his hard cock for what would almost undoubtedly be the last time. Soon there was a bead of precum on the tip, and the end of it was flared and purple. His cock was on the verge of cumming, but before it could happen the cutter took that opportunity away from him.

The cutter said "OK...STOP. Leave your cock alone now....and tell me....tell me to castrate you."

Garret looked at the cutter, right into his eyes, his big cock pulsating and bouncing to his heartbeat. Then, over the roar of the crowd he said "Yes....do it. Cut off my balls! NOW!"

As he said the last word the cutter started moving the knife, slowly, side to side, slowly working the blade through his scrotum. He was in no hurry, and the pain of what he was doing had to have been intense. Garrit started to move his right hand down to stop what was happening to him, but somehow he fought it off and reached up and grabbed the leather restraint at the corner of the table instead. He screamed though, and gritted his teeth then, staring at the cutter while it was being done, biting his lip and grunting as he felt his sack of balls being cut from his body.

He slammed his hips upward into the air, and then his thick cock spurted out his jism as the knife was moving back and forth. He pumped out four good shots of cream, his last and final load as a man. As he was shooting his wad he gripped the restraints in his hands, and never let them go. He literally hung onto them as he was castrated, and while his legs jerked and the muscles twitched and pulled against the ties that held them, his hands were held by nothing but his willpower. Somehow he got through it. Just as he finished and his cock spurted for the last time, his balls came free and it was done.

Of course, after that, I had to hit one of the restaurants, and have a plate of balls. For some reason, that just seemed a fitting way to end a perfect day.

[Authors note: © Copyright January, 2005. All rights reserved. Not to be copied without the consent of the author. If you liked the story, I'd appreciate a note telling me so. Thanks. -Nathan]


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